


soldier, poet, king

by lunamarii



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Flashbacks, Songfic, no beta we die like phil's relationship with his sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28635690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunamarii/pseuds/lunamarii
Summary: Tommy has a penchant for destruction. Wilbur speaks his way into his own death. Tubbo is holding up a country that's been falling apart for months.Soldier, Poet, King.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Tubbo | Toby Smith & Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	soldier, poet, king

**Author's Note:**

> song is "soldier, poet, king" by the oh hellos

_ There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword _

It had been relatively peaceful before Tommy joined. Sure, there were minor squabbles, but none of them held a candle to the chaos the young boy had brought with him. He’d stumbled into the world with a mouth full of metal, curses falling from his lips, sword already in hand. Tommy was a loose cannon, brash with a penchant for damage, and no respect for authority. No one knew what hit them.

_ He will tear your city down, o lei o lai o lord _

Tommy’s hands were shaking, his chest still aching from an arrow plunging into it. He knew that if Wilbur knew what he was about to do, he’d try to talk him out of it. 

“Okay, I’ll do this for L’manberg. I’ll give you both of the discs if you let us have our independence.” God, he hopes this works. Dream is silent for a second.

“Wait…”

“Cat and Mellohi,” Tommy clarifies, his face stoic in an attempt to hide the rapid pace of his heart.

“That is very selfless of you,” Dream says, a tone of surprise underlying his voice. “Those are your discs.”

“For L’manberg, y’know, for Wilbur, for Tubbo.”

\--------------

“Wilbur, I’ve secured our independence.”

_ O lei o lai o lei o lord _

When there wasn’t a war going on, Tommy was still a force of chaos, He’d scam people, start mini-wars, and in the strangest turn, establish a religion. Yet somehow, regardless of how his plans ended, he always bounced back. The day after his plans fell through, he could still be seen placing a compliment booth that gave insults on the holy land or trying to sell “Tubbo Bathwater” to Badboyhalo. Tommy always had an idea, always had a plan, always had a way out.

_ He will tear your city down, o lei o lai o lord _

Tommy and Ranboo stand in front of the pyre that George’s house has become. It wasn’t supposed to burn, it was just supposed to be a robbery. But regardless of intention, the house still burned.

“Take the path as to not look suspicious, but stay away from people,” Tommy tells the older boy.

“Okay,” Ranboo says. Tommy can tell he’s shaken. Hell, Tommy’s shaken. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t know if he can get out of this.

_ There will come a poet, whose weapon is his word _

When Wilbur had arrived, he was unimpressed by Tommy’s activities. Besides a few minor scams, all the younger did was walk what Wilbur had derided as “The Prime Path”. So Wilbur had proposed an idea to Tommy, to gain a monopoly on brewing stands and form a drug empire. The younger was easily swayed, and they took up shop in a van simply referred to as “The Camarvan”. Neither of them knew what they had just set in motion.

_ He will slay you with his tongue, o lei o lai o lord _

Wilbur, Fundy, Tommy, and Tubbo stand around the Camarvan as Wilbur drafts the official Decree of Independence.

“As we gaze upon the swaths of redwood trees, the great hills to our south, and the walls that have protected for years, I, as the now President of L’manberg, hereby state: YOOOOOOOO, SUCK IT GREEN BOI,” Wilbur narrates as he writes. Everyone bursts into laughter, easily amused, still riding a giddy high from their victory. 

When everyone calms down, he adds the last page, the most important part. “Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Freedom,” he states, putting his pen down. The book is passed around and signed by the people, the founders of L’manberg. They won.

_ o lei o lai o lei o lord _

While Wilbur’s sanity was long gone, his ability to persuade people to do what he wanted wasn’t. He’d always had a way with words, and he knew it and used it. It had started with Technoblade, Wilbur tantalizing the anarchist pig with the promise of taking down a dictator, an oppressive government. Knowing just the right buttons to press, Techno had easily agreed.

Then there was Dream. No one knew quite what he’d said to convince the other man to give him so many explosives, but it must have been good, seeing as Dream had put himself in between Wilbur and the arrow loaded in Tommy’s crossbow.

And last, and debatably the easiest, was Tubbo, the younger boy still holding faint hero worship for his former president. So when Wilbur had asked him to add just four words at the end of his speech, he hadn’t denied. He had no idea what those words were supposed to destroy.

_ He will slay you with his tongue, o lei o lai o lord _

“It was never meant to be.”

\--------------

“Look, they all want you to,” Wilbur goads. “Do it, Phil, kill me. Phil, kill me.”

“You’re my son!” Phil yells, voice echoing in the crater that Wilbur had created. Wilbur punches the wall.

“Look! Look! How much work went into this, and it’s gone. Do it. Do it.” Wilbur’s voice has dissolved into begging, tears streaming down his face.

A sword pushes into his stomach, and he’s gone.

_ There will come a ruler, whose brow is laid in thorn _

Tubbo had always been considered innocent, his love of bees and desperation to see the good in everyone undercutting the political tension that was almost constant. He’d never been a leader, always a follower, never giving orders, just trying to stay alive. The innocence and naivety were gone as the 17-year-old frantically messed with his hair, trying to hide the two small horns beginning to sprout from his head.

_ Smeared with oil like David’s boy, o lei o lai o lord _

They’d won. Schlatt was dead, they had L’manberg back, and they’d won. Tubbo stands at the podium where he’d been executed just a month prior, shaking with both elation and anxiety. He had thought that Wilbur would simply slip back into his role as president, but instead, he’d passed the role to Tubbo. Tubbo supposes he should make a speech.

“Well, I’ve been put on the spot here, I wasn’t expecting to be surrounded by friends and enemies, but I enjoy seeing the unity. I suppose that’s really what matters.” Tubbo is a bit shocked by the respect and attention he was being given, everyone listening intently. 

“Everyone can be here. Everyone has fought for this nation, against or to reclaim. And that’s what counts. Thank you, everyone, it’s been an honor.” Tubbo ends his speech to applause, with even Technoblade letting out a monotone “Yeahhh”. He makes a promise to himself then, to rebuild L’manberg better than ever, and to be a nation of peace.

_ o lei o lai o lei o lord _

Tubbo looked empty sometimes, and no one could blame him. Just minutes after his speech, Wilbur blew L’manberg up and Technoblade spawned withers. Everything they had fought for was gone in an instant, destroyed by those who fought to get it back. But he pressed on, built the new city on top of the old one, a reminder of the tragedy and how they had overcome it.

It lasted a week.

Tommy had burned down George’s house and Tubbo was forced to exile him. Tubbo knew that technically, he could have refused to exile his former vice president, stuck by his side. However, that would lead to another war with Dream, and with L’manberg’s resources still reeling from the previous war, he knew engaging would simply lead to a slaughter.

Sometimes Fundy would look at Tubbo and find the boy almost unrecognizable from when they first met. There were bags permanently set under his eyes, and the hollowness of his eyes was something Fundy had only seen twice before. 

But hey; someone has to be president.

_ Smeared with oil like David’s boy, o lei o lai o lord _

Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity, and Ranboo stand in Phil’s house, with the older man giving them a wary look.

“Phil, look, we have a simple request,” Quackity starts. “We’re looking for Technoblade, and you, as a citizen of L’manberg, and per request of the president, we demand you to tell us where Technoblade is.” Phil doesn’t look anywhere close to saying anything, so Tubbo decides to try a gentler approach.

“Phil, I think it would be best if you do just give up his location,” Tubbo says. It doesn’t work. After a few more minutes of trying to cajole the information out of him, Quackity gives up.

“Alright fellas, just start looking through his things.” The four of them spread out in the small house rifling through chests and barrels as Phil protests. Tubbo is searching through a barrel next to the ladder when he sees it, a compass with a purple sheen, writing etched into the side. He pulls it out. The letters read, “Techno’s Compass.” Tubbo calls out to Quackity.

“Hey, Big Q, look what I found.” Tubbo holds up the compass, and Phil lets out a muttered curse. Tubbo watches as Phil tries to lie his way out of it, and fails. He turns to the older man. “This is considered treason. I assume you will be put under house arrest. Ranboo?” Ranboo reaches into his bag and pulls out an ankle monitor.

Once the monitor has been fitted, they leave, the others joking and strategizing as they head to Technoblade’s location. Tubbo tries to join in, but there’s pain blossoming from the crown of his head. As he reaches up to attempt to identify the source of the pain, his hand is met with two sharp points. Oh.

_ o lei o lai o lei o lord _

It had been about twelve hours since L’manberg had gained its independence, and though spirits were still high, people were starting to mellow out. Wilbur, after drinking about half a liter of vodka and crying over how much he loved Fundy, had gone quiet. They were sitting on the grass to the side of the Camarvan, with music playing, and a bonfire that wasn’t so bright that it hid the stars. They sit for a while, enjoying the atmosphere, the freedom until Wilbur speaks.

“We really did it, huh.”

“Yeah, all thanks to me, bitch,” Tommy proclaims, the late hour causing his volume to be lower than usual. Wilbur smacks him upside the head.

“No, seriously,” Wilbur says. “I’ll be honest, I never thought we would make it this far, but we did, and it’s only just sinking in.”

“All thanks to you, big man,” Tubbo replies sleepily from where his head is resting in Tommy’s lap.

“And me!” Tommy says indignantly.

“And you,” Tubbo placates.

They stay outside until the sun comes up, basking in the glory and beauty of their new nation.

_ He will tear your city down, o lei o lai o lord _

For the first time in a long time, Tommy is speechless. He’d thought L’manberg had seen its worst when Wilbur had pressed the button, but he was so, so wrong. His home, the nation he created, the nation he fought for, his last piece of Wilbur, was gone. It was nothing but gashes into stone. He feels someone grab his hand. Tommy turns to see Tubbo, covered in gunpowder and ash, tear tracks on his face.

Neither of them says anything. They simply stare at what their home has become, what they’ve lost. Despite the small explosions that still echo in the craters, it feels quiet.

“The lanterns are still there.” Ghostbur has come up beside them.

“I guess they are,” Tommy responds, voice hoarse from smoke inhalation and shouting orders. He’s shaking. Tubbo squeezes his hand.

“We’re alive,” he reminds Tommy, voice small. Tommy glances at Ghostbur and then the destruction. 

“Yeah, we are.”

They stay there until the sun comes up, mourning the loss of their nation.

**Author's Note:**

> It's done! Thank you all so much for reading. This is an idea that snuck inside my head about a month ago, and today I decided to write it. Originally, the idea was for an animatic, but since I can neither draw nor animate, I decided to write a fic. All dialogue (apart from the last two sections) is directly pulled from clips and VODs. I skipped around conversations a bit, but I didn't change any words. Once again, thank you all so much for reading. The DSMP and MCYT fan communities are the most supportive and creative I've ever seen and I'm so glad to be apart of them. 
> 
> As always, leave a kudos if you enjoyed, feel free to put comments, questions, or criticism in the comments, and check out my other works and socials!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lunamarii__/)
> 
> [reddit](http://reddit.com/u/borderline_alive)


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